


FabFebFive - John

by JMount74



Series: FabFebFive2021 [1]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29152749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMount74/pseuds/JMount74
Summary: Five prompts for John.
Series: FabFebFive2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139951
Comments: 18
Kudos: 20





	1. Basket

**Author's Note:**

> This is from Gumnut's FabFebFive prompts on Tumblr

It was something he had loved for a long time.

Wicker intrigued John. The vast range of patterns, of different objects that could be made from a simple process of weaving prepared strips of bark. It was a therapy he didn’t know he needed, it left his mind free to wander where it needed while his long, slender fingers took a strip of pliant bark and wove. 

His astronomy professor had introduced him to weaving as a way of concentrating. Recognising the young teen’s need to move his hands while he concentrated, stimming he was told, he had tried various other tasks to do while in class, but they were all either noisy and distracting or just plain distracting.

So it came as a huge surprise that weaving gave him the needed stimulus for his hands while not distracting from the lesson in general. Soon John was coiling, platting and twining as well as wicker weaving, and he had a large variety of baskets. He gave them away.

As he progressed through university and into NASA, he continued weaving, although rarely due to his heavy workload. And he was so pleased he had.

Sitting here with his brother Gordon, fresh home from hospital and rehab from the hydrofoil crash, John is so thankful he kept the skill going. They sit in pleasant silence as John teaches Gordon to weave as therapy for his shattered fingers.

There are mistakes and tears and even tantrums. But by the time Gordon is able to walk and swim again there are a new collection of baskets the Tracy’s have acquired.

And each and every one of them is treasured.


	2. Delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tracy name carried with it certain expectations. Stubbornness was the first. Having bad luck was another. Nerves of steel was a third. 
> 
> Being delicate was definitely not one of those expectations.

Delicate.

He’d heard it many times from many different people all through his life. And having an eidetic memory he remembered them all (well, almost all).

When he’d been born he was delicate. Born early and spending some time in an incubator, John was delicate physically speaking. He obviously didn’t remember that.

He did remember Scott being warned to be more careful with him as he was delicate and pulling him around like that would hurt him. Scott had been so upset that he had hurt him, and John was too young to tell him he was fine.

Grandma had called him delicate when she took Scott and him out for the day while their parents were welcoming Virgil into the world. It was the ginger hair and the porcelain colouring of his skin she had been referring to and she had smothered him in sun cream. For some reason Scott had found this hilarious and had giggled for ages every time he looked at him.

Virgil was the next brother to be warned that John was delicate. Virgil was a solid child who had easily bowled his older brother over when trying to run past him and misjudging the distance. John had ended up with a fractured wrist and Virgil had been beside himself with guilt. 

The next people to call him delicate had not been so nice. They spat the word at him as an insult and followed it up with shoves and fists. It had only happened the once, Scott saw to that, but it made a lasting impression on John. He withdrew from associating with most people outside of his family. People were cruel.

Gordon had heard both parents call John delicate and warn him to be careful not to hurt his older brother, but Gordon being Gordon, he completely ignored them and refused to pussyfoot around John. For the first time John actually felt free to be himself around his brothers. It didn’t take long for Scott and Virgil to follow suit, although his two immediate brothers would never grow out of the need to smother him entirely.

Alan never got the chance to be told that John was delicate. By the time he was old enough to be taught that, their mother was gone, and it was Scott and John holding the family together. They all gave Scott the credit for keeping them going, but Scott would often tell John he couldn’t have done it without him. It was the first time that it had occurred to John that maybe he actually wasn’t as delicate as he’d been led to believe.

Of course, he was the same person he had always been, but being told from such a young age that he was delicate had kind of stuck. 

Going away to university and having to survive on his own certainly helped him shed more of the notion of him being delicate. And he relished the challenges life was beginning to throw at him.

NASA meant he couldn’t possibly be delicate. The rigorous training he had to get through alongside everything else blew the idea of him being delicate out of the water. He was just as tough as all of them.

He was just as tough as his father. 

When he casually mentioned this to Scott one time his older brother came to visit, Scott looked at him with a quizzical frown. ‘You’ve always been tougher than Dad, John. Why on earth would you not know that?’ It had taken him back. Did his brother actually believe that? But then, he knew that Scott never lied, and he had seemed genuinely surprised that John still thought of himself as being delicate. Well, not anymore.

Space was unforgiving. Those first few times being back on earth made John feel delicate all over again. It took a long time for his body to adjust to being back on the ground, but each occasion it took less time to acclimatise.

International Rescue presented it’s own challenges. Living in space full-time, with little Earth time did make him a little more wibbly-wobbly, but the suit Brains had designed, along with the inbuild support in his clothes, more than helped with the worst of it. 

Hi brothers still smothered him over this, all except Alan who had first-hand experience and knew the smothering wouldn’t accomplish anything. They all knew that really, but the habit of a lifetime couldn’t be broken in either Scott or Virgil.

John had once believed he was delicate, set apart from his brothers in a way that meant he was different. He knew better now. He wasn’t delicate. He wasn’t different. He was above all else a Tracy. He was steel.


	3. Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and a certain set of mountains

“I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find…” Lucy didn’t get any further before her normally quiet two-year-old shouted at the top of his voice: ‘Mountains, Mommy, mountains!’ She dutifully turned to the map at the beginning of the book so that John could look at the map and run his tiny hand down the mountain range and pat the Lonely Mountain.

It had been a surprise when John reacted to the line that first time. Finding books that her already extraordinarily bright child would be engaged with was hard, and it had been suggested as a joke that she read him Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. He had been taken by the map from the start, and she rarely managed to get beyond Bilbo’s line before they stopped to examine the map.

She had no idea why the word ‘mountain’ had such an effect on him.

The following night she was beaten to John’s bedside. Lucy stood in the doorway and watched fondly as a three-and-a-half-year-old Scott sat with the huge book swamping his lap. He wasn’t really reading the book, just making the words up as he went, but John was just as enraptured as usual.

‘I see mountains, daf, mountains,’ Scott read at some random point, obviously having listened in before, and John, with his customary shout, prompted the turning of pages. She moved further into the room and snapped a picture of her two boys sitting side by side pouring over the map.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

“I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find…” He was almost eight by the time he had read the three books from cover to cover, and he loved the story so much. John could recite parts of it off by heart already, especially Bilbo Baggins’ speech about mountains.

Scott sometimes sat with him while he read, his big brother still occasionally read out loud, but usually that was to the younger ones. His Mom had her hands full now, what with five children all under ten, but she always made time to read a little to him, mostly astronomy and space books, but on the rare occasion they still read Bilbo Baggins wanting to see mountains.

He treasured these moments

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

He never wanted to see another mountain again in his life.

Ever.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

With Scott being run ragged trying to care for them all, especially Alan who, at only four, didn’t really understand why things were different, sometimes it fell to John to comfort Gordon.

The seven-year-old had gone from the most extroverted person John knew to the most introverted – bar himself – and he was worried. Nothing he tried worked. Gordon wouldn’t go near the pool, he wouldn’t watch his favourite films, he wouldn’t play at all, and John was near to tearing his hair out trying to work out what to do.

He sat on the chair next to Gordon’s bed and as a last resort he picked up the book. He hadn’t noticed what book it was until, beginning to read out loud he realised. John wanted to stop, but for once Gordon was quiet but engaged, lying there on his side watching John read. 

He took a breath. And carried on…“I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find…” Gordon took a sharp breath in and John stopped. They’re eyes met, and it was immediately evident that Gordon had been crying while John read to him.

‘Mountains. I don’t think I want to see mountains again, John.’ It was quietly said, and John put the book down and climbed onto the bed and hugged his brother tightly. After a while he got up to leave, only for Gordon’s voice to stop him at the door.

‘Thanks, John. Will you read it again tomorrow?’ John nodded.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

It was now a well-worn book, read so many times over the years. He had the original copy in his bookshelf at home and a copy up on Five both in paperback and an electronic copy. He knew it by heart, and now he could honestly say that Bilbo’s line regarding mountains was still one of his favourites.

He settled down beside his only oldest brother, opened the book at the beginning and began to read, hoping the familiarity would rouse his brother after the serious injury had resulted in Scott being unconscious for several days now.

Reaching the sentence, he paused and looked over, but there was no change. “I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find…” ‘Mountains, daf, mountains,’ his brother murmured, not really stirring, but John was ecstatic. Patting Scott’s arm he carried on reading.

“Somewhere where I can rest. In peace and quiet, without a lot of relatives prying around, and a string of confounded visitors hanging on the bell. I might find somewhere where I can finish my book. I have thought of a nice ending for it: and he lived happily ever after to the end of his days” 

‘John?’  
‘Hey, Scotty.’


	4. What Is That?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four times John asked 'What is that?'

_What is that? (Surprise, awe)_

Jeff laughed. His second eldest asked that question far more than Scott ever did. His eldest seemed to be preoccupied with jumping and flying, and the only question Scott ever asked at the moment was ‘can I jump off that, Daddy?’ He was running Lucy and himself off their feet trying to Scott-proof the new farmhouse.

John, though, John was far quieter and more likely to be found reading a book, even at four years old. Sometimes he followed Scott and played flying or jumping, but his attention was limited when participating in physical activity and he often abandoned the game part-way through and settled down to read. This never seemed to bother his older brother, and he would often stop and sit with John for a short while. Where John was quiet and could sit for hours, Scott was all activity and rarely sat still for long.

Tonight was special.

Jeff had finished installing the telescope on the roof and had built a viewing platform, and tonight was the grand opening. He knew Scott would be interested, but John loved talking and reading about the stars and he hoped this would be as enthralling as it had been for him at the same age.

He was not disappointed. Scott had enjoyed the night as he had expected, but John had been overawed. He had kept pointing at different stars and planets and asking, ‘what is that?’ His second-born definitely had his head in the stars. Jeff wondered idly if Virgil would take after Lucy. He wondered who the next baby would take after.

_What is that? (Horror, disgust)_

Gordon had been a shock to all of them, but probably to John the most. The quiet child had had his life turned upside down by the noisy baby, and toddling Gordon was possibly worse. But a four-year-old Gordon could try the patience of a saint. And he had formed an unlikely attachment to John.

Poor John didn’t get a moment’s peace, except when his youngest brother was in the pool. Yet his parents had been surprised that John had taken it all in his stride. He was currently helping Gordon with his reading, but Gordon – hyperactive almost as much as Scott had been – had gone out to play.

Lucy wasn’t really worried. The farmhouse had huge grounds for the children to run around in, and Gordon and Scott took full advantage of the space. It was muddy, however, and she watched fondly as Gordon fell over in the mud. It wouldn’t be a problem for this one, as Gordon loved water and would enjoy his bath later. John, however, would not appreciate getting dirty, he was a fastidious child. 

She was drawn from her musing by a yell. Lucy made her way outside as quickly as possible, only to see Gordon standing in front of a seated John. John had a book open, and on top…on top of the book was a pile of what looked like mud. The book would definitely be ruined. Both her children looked like they were going to cry. She knelt down beside John and place a hand on his arm. He looked like he was in shock. With tear-filled eyes he looked up at his younger brother.

‘What is that?’ he cried, a hint of horror in his voice. Gordon, his own tears now falling, replied, ‘it’s a mud pie. I made it for you, Johnny.’

Lucy stifled a laugh. Sometimes her current youngest was so thoughtful, but he was also didn’t think anything through. The tears soon dried up as John realised his brother was trying to be nice.

‘Thank you, Gords, that was very, um nice of you.’ And he was rewarded by one of Gordons sunniest smiles and a hug.

_What is that? (Surprise, interest, a little jealousy)_

John stood on the porch, waiting for Scott to get home. The two oldest brothers hadn’t seen each other in over six months, respective university studies and Scott spending spare time on extra credits for his entry for the Officer’s School of the USAF.

John had arrived home only half an hour ago, the house was thankfully quiet, as their dad, knowing they were due back, had taken Alan and Gordon out for the day, and Virgil was out with friends.

The roar of a throaty engine warned John that his brother was approaching, but what he was driving to make that noise he couldn’t tell. Scott had driven an SUV as soon as he could drive, but that had been more about transporting younger brothers to school than a mode of transport he actually wanted.

Putting his coffee on the fence, he leaned over, watching the dust from the driveway cloud the air. And out of it came a motorbike? John was impressed, it wasn’t the transport he thought his brother would have gone for. As Scott skidded to a halt in front of the house and kicked the stand down, John let out a low whistle.

‘What is that?’ he asked as Scott took off his helmet, walking the circuit around the bike. It was silver with blue. Scott laughed. ‘It’s a Harley Softail Fat Boy.’ John cocked an eyebrow at the name, and Scott laughed harder, pulling John into a tight hug. ‘Where’s your ride, Johnny-boy?’

‘Don’t call me Johnny, Scotty,’ John shot back, pulling his brother by the arm to the barn they used as a garage. ‘My ride is here.’ Opening the doors, he watched in delight as Scott’s eyes widened. 

‘What is that? Is that what I think it is?’ he breathed, rushing over to take a better look. He ran a hand carefully over the bonnet of an orange Ford Thunderbird convertible. Not a modern monstrosity, but a classic car that had obviously been pimped.

John was inordinately pleased that Scott loved the car. He had hoped he would, they had spent ages when they were learning to drive discussing what cars they would have, and Scott had always wanted a T-Bird. 

They grinned at each other. This week was going to be fun!

_What is that? (delight)_

Jeff had called John and asked him to come home. Home was now an island in the Pacific where the family had relocated to while the three eldest had been away at university and working.

John had returned to Earth after his latest mission for NASA/WSA and was currently grounded for at least six months until he could return to space. He was increasingly becoming disillusioned with his job, however, as the bosses kept trying to ground him in the hope of getting him into the research division. He was fighting it every time he came back to earth, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

His father’s request had come out of the blue, and he was intrigued. Virgil had come to fetch him using Tracy One, their dad’s work plane, and they had enjoyed the time catching up while flying back. But Virgil was tight-lipped about what their dad wanted.

Two days. He had been on the island two days and his dad had not spoken to him about why he’d asked John to come home. John was relaxing by the pool when his brother came out to get him. Puzzled, John followed Virgil through the house and through what could only be called a secret passage.

They came to a large hanger. Inside were the carcasses of what looked like two rockets and possibly a plane? Nothing was even half-way built, but it was clear what they were going to be. John stood on a walkway about halfway up the cavern, mouth open.

‘What is that? And that? And that?’ Virgil laughed. ‘Dad’ll explain everything later, he’s waiting for you in Brains’ lab.’ Ah yes, Brains. He had met the genius the last time he’d been home. They had talked for hours; someone John could talk actually complexities with. Virgil led him down and along until they came to a recessed door.

They entered to find their dad and Brains pouring over some schematics. And it was the schematic that made John’s eyes pop out of his head. ‘What is that! Is…is that what I think it is?’

His dad turned and grinned. ‘John, welcome to your very own space station.’


	5. A Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John faces danger in the jungle and is helped by an unlikely ally

They were hot and sweaty. It had been a hell of a rescue, helping find people affected by sudden severe flooding along the Ganges. They had been here for days, and John was not sure where in the wide jungle of India they actually were anymore.

He was sitting with his back against a tree – it looked like an oak registered a tired part of John’s brain – with Gordon and Alan while waiting for Virgil to pick them up in Two. They were all so tired that they weren’t even talking, and the silence – listening to the fauna was so relaxing that John felt his eyes closing.

Gordon elbowed Alan in the ribs and nodded over at their older brother. ‘Finally!’ hissed Alan. I thought he was never going to drop off!’ Gordon nodded. They had both been concerned at how exhausted John was. 

While their brother slept, the two took a small walk around. There was a lot of animal sounds, and the biologist in Gordon (and the ‘I love cute animals’ part of Alan) was intent on finding out what they were. There was a lot of what sounded like giggling, and Gordon was intent on finding out what animal was making it.

It seemed to take hours to find out where the noise was coming from, but in reality it was nearer half an hour. Alan spotted the animal first. About the size of a large cat, greyish fur blending into the semi-light of the jungle floor, he nudged Gordon carefully. They stood as still as statues while the animal sniffed around them, seemed to decide that they were no threat, and moved on, going in the direction they boys had come from. They followed very slowly.

John had woken up suddenly from the nap he was taking. Something didn’t feel right. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up, but his senses were on high alert. He didn’t move but scanned the area around him. It was as if someone had turned all the ambient sound off, all he could hear was his own breathing and heartbeat.

Then he saw it, coiled just by his right hand.

The mongoose suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Gordon and Alan held their breath, waiting to see what it was doing. They were almost back to John now, and they hoped their brother wouldn’t disturb this animal from going about doing it’s business. Suddenly the mongoose shot off, and they looked at each other. Suddenly Gordon’s squid sense was going off the chart and he crashed after it, Alan following closely.

John tried to move his hand slowly, but the distinct hissing from the snake that was almost touching him made him stop. He knew that as long as the snake didn’t feel threatened it would be unlikely to attack him, but for once his knowledge didn’t make him feel better. 

The snake moved slightly away, but in doing so part of its’ tail end touched John and immediately the snake reared up, hood spread and threat so obvious John almost flinched. There was a flash of something brown/grey and suddenly he was watching a cat fighting a snake. Then he realised it wasn’t a cat, it was a mongoose, the same moment his brothers came crashing through the undergrowth.

The fight was spectacular to watch. The snake writhed and hissed and turned, desperately trying to unseat the creature, who appeared to be trying to bite the snake’s tail, causing it to be constantly turning on itself. Eventually it succeeded on killing the snake by a bite to the back of the head.

Seemingly satisfied with itself, it looked at John and chirped a giggle to him and disappeared back into the undergrowth. The three brothers stared at each other, dead snake in the middle. John’s heart was beating wildly as he realised what a close call that had been.

Gordon helped him up as the familiar sounds of Two became clear. ‘That was a close one, John,’ Alan said, clapping him on the back. He really didn’t need to be reminded. ‘What was that?’ It was Gordon who answered. ‘Grey Mongoose, native of Asia and feared killer of snakes. Dudes are awesome. They really just hate snakes and have special powers so that snake bites don’t harm them.’ 

John frowned at Gordon. Special powers! Just then the giggling that had been heard earlier was joined by more. John thought that maybe five or six individuals might be gathered together. He was still in shock at the suddenness of it all. ‘Hey John, you got saved by your own Rikki-Tikki-Tavi!’ Gordon exclaimed, and the shock that Gordon had actually just quoted a book to him brought him back to the present.

‘What do they call a collection of mongooses…mongeeses..mongeese anyway?’ said Alan. John smiled at him.

‘A group of mongooses are called a curiosity.’


End file.
